The F Word
by xForeversEndx
Summary: Daen likes Seamus. Seamus hates the "F" word. And the cold. And the Slytherins. There are a million and one ways to summarize a cute story about these two, but they are all ridiculously cheesy. If you like Dean and Seamus, you will probably like this.


**HEY GUYS! I figured I'd try my hands at a Deamus fic and see where it goes. If you're one of my usual readers, you might realise that this is a different style from my other work so please let me know in a REVIEW how I did. I love you guys so much,**

**xForeversEndx. **

I'm drawing him again. Seamus.

He's playing chess right now with Ron. Or perhaps I should say, he's losing to chess right now with Ron. Loss or no, he's focused. Seamus gets a very intense expression when he's focusing. His eyes narrow in concentration and he purses his lips tight like McGonagall. But that doesn't matter right now because it isn't his face that I'm drawing. It's his hands. Each fist is clenched on either side of the playing board in determination. I've been sketching out the scene for the past 25 minutes, which is a challenge because the pieces keep moving and for that matter so do Seamus's hands. I've nearly finished, though, which is lucky because so are they.

"Fuck!" Seamus bangs his right fist on the table as Ron check mates his king. The pieces are quick to swear right back. I bite back a smile as I watch him argue with the soldiers. I add the last bit of shading to my drawing. The end result is a very intense looking battle scene – scores of damaged and focused soldiers on the chess board, looking determined, with an equally determined pair of fists clenching on either side of battlefield. To the untrained eye, those hands could belong to anybody.

To mine, there's not a pair like them in the world.

As Seamus screams at the figures I flip back through some of the drawings on my pad. Seamus's trainers tossed carelessly into the middle of the dorm room floor. A loose Gryffindor tie hanging lazily from his slightly unbuttoned neck. An exploded cauldron. A tattered Irish flag. Nearly all of my drawings involve him in one way or another. At the same time, I've drawn his face only once.

"What'ya got there, Dean?" I jump, startled, to find Neville looking over the back of the armchair I'm sitting in. I flip back to my chess drawing and show it to him. He stares at it for a moment and shakes his head, seeming impressed.

"Bloody hell, Dean! That's amazing!" I mumble a thanks at him wishing he hadn't interrupted my thoughts. He sits on the arm of my chair and watches Seamus's argument for a moment before looking back at me with an expression I don't necessarily like. I shy back a bit.

"What…?" I stammer. He bumps his shoulder with mine.

"'Nother Seamus drawing?" I feel myself flush and for the instant I'm thankful for my dark skin.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Neville." I close my pad and try to leave. As I start to walk away he answers me.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." I turn around, cursing Neville for noticing.

"And what's that?" He smirks in an unpleasant sort of way but doesn't answer me. I roll my eyes and start to go upstairs. Neville bounds after me.

"Oh come on, Dean, it's obvious!" I say nothing. "Just ask him out already." If Neville wasn't so close a friend I'd be annoyed with his involvement. As it is, I can't be angry. I sigh.

"Seamus isn't even gay, Neville." I open the door and trudge into our room. I flop onto my bed. He flops beside me.

"Have you ever asked him?"

"Nope."

"Then you do you know he's not gay?" It's a valid point.

"Because he would have told me."

"In the way you would have told him?" I glare. I never came out to Seamus. He found out from Harry and Ron, which made him very angry.

"T-that's different…" I stammer.

"How?"

"He might have not liked me anymore…" I know that doesn't make sense as I say it. Harry's dating Malfoy and Seamus doesn't have a problem with him. Just Malfoy. But well… he's Malfoy. He was much more upset that I hadn't told him, but I just couldn't make myself do it. He's still angry with me but he's pretending to be over it, something that's been depressing me for the past week or so. I tried to explain I didn't hide it from him because I don't trust him but he won't believe me and I don't blame him. I just want him to stop being mad.

"That's shite, Dean, and you know it." I pull a pillow over my head. I was in a good mood ten minutes ago and here comes Neville making me all upset. He pulls the pillow off of me and despite my efforts to get it back, he wins. "Just try, mate. Really." I flip over to my stomach and burry my face into the mattress.

"Noit'lljustmakeitweird." My voice is muffled but he seems to understand what I've said. He sighs.

"Whatever you say, mate. I think it's worth a shot." He gets up and moves over to his own side of the room. I grope for the pillow Neville took from me and plop it back on top of my head, feeling for some reason like crying. I scream frustratedly into the mattress. Throwing a tantrum seems like an attractive idea at the moment. Like, honestly, I want to kick my legs and arms and scream. Unfortunately, this is when Seamus chooses to enter the room.

"Uhm… You okay, Dean?" I stop yelling at my pillow and freeze.

"Don't worry 'bout it." I hear Neville say. "He's having a fit." Seamus's voice then directs itself at me.

"Why are you having a fit, Dean?" I pretend I don't hear him. "Dean?" I pull the pillow off my head and sit up.

"'Coz I felt like it." I state, trying my hardest to get him to believe I'm just in a weird, hyper-type mood. I'm not sure he buys it. He raises his eyebrows at me.

"Right." He says shortly. He walks over to his bed and draws the curtains. I sigh and follow him. I pull the curtains back.

"Come on, Shay…" He doesn't look up from his book so I sit cross-legged on his bed and pull the hangings shut again. "You're still mad at me…"

"I'm not mad," he says shortly. I pull the book out of his hands.

"Yes, you are." He glares at me.

"Give that back."

"No." I say bluntly. "Either admit that you're angry, or stop being mad."

"Fuck off, Dean." This hurts. I exit the bed and come back a moment later with my drawing pad.

"I drew a picture of you today." I say, and curse myself for sounding desperate for his approval. I grab the book back from his hands.

"I said bugger off." I bite my lower lip.

"Just look at it." He grabs the pad and glances briefly at the page. I catch a flicker of something in his silver eyes but it's gone before I can work out what it is, and a moment later he's shoved the book back into my arms.

"It's cool." He says shortly. I feel tears start to well in my eyes and I blink them back.

"Please stop that, Shay. I'm sorry, okay?" He purses his lips and glares at me.

"Sorry for what?" He asks coldly.

"Not telling you I'm gay!" I cry out. "I was scared to tell you!" This doesn't seem to help my case.

"Why?" If anything, he seems more angry now.

"Because… you mean the most to me… If Harry or Ron or Neville told me to fuck off for it I'd be okay…" He stares at me in silence for a moment.

"How could you think I would take it bad?" His voice is incredulous. "Christ, Dean I thought you knew better!" I don't say anything but let my lower lip tremble. An instant later, the coldness in Seamus's tone is gone.

"Hey… come mate, don't… don't do that…" Seamus hates when I cry. "I forgive you, okay…?" I shake my head.

"You're saying that." I pout, playing it up slightly so he won't go back to being mad. He sighs. I sniff dramatically and wipe at my eyes (which in my defence really are wet). Seamus squirms uncomfortably.

"Don't… don't cry, Dean…" I may be playing it up, but I'm not tearful on purpose, and he seems to realise that. He can usually catch when I'm faking it. "I-I'm not mad anymore…" He's beginning to sound a little desperate. In what seems to be an awkward last moment resort he pulls me into a hug, which catches me much more off-guard than it probably should. Seamus isn't a hugger. "I'm sorry mate I just… I thought you'd know better…"

"I did!" I cry, "I just… I don't know!" Picking up on the fact that I will actually start crying if he pursues the subject he doesn't probe further, and it feels like ages before he lets go of me. "I'm sorry." I mumble pathetically.

"It's okay." And finally I feel like he's genuinely forgiven me. "Just… trust me more from now on, okay?" I nod and make a final swipe at my eyes.

"So… what did you really think of the drawing…?" I ask, feeling nervous about his true opinion.

"I think it's great, Dean." He says with a smile. "You made those pieces look really pissed off." I smile, inwardly wishing he knew I hadn't at all been interested in the soldiers. I can tell he's being a bit politer than he would be because I almost just cried.

"Thanks." There's an awkward silence and I can't really work out why. Despite this, I'm confident that things will return to normal by tomorrow morning. This brightens my spirits quite a bit. "What else have you got in that book of yours?" I flush.

"Uhm… nothing important…" He laughs.

"Come on, let me see!" Knowing he'll be angry again if I don't, I hand over my pad and try to return to my own part of the room but Seamus doesn't let me. I feel myself becoming steadily more red as he flips through drawing after drawing after drawing.

"Wow… Dean these are… these are incredible." This time, his amazement is genuine, and I realise I've never let him look at my drawings before. I can't help but smile at this.

"Thanks…" I say shyly, wondering why I've turned into some pathetic schoolboy over his compliment. Seamus is my best friend. I've known him for years.

"Is this a drawing of my shoe?" He asks. He seems amused.

"Uh… yeah." I say. "You're always leaving them everywhere." He laughs.

"Yeah I guess I am, huh?" I laugh nervously. He inspects the shoe. "Christ, Dean. Where did you learn to do this?" I feel a smile spread across my face against my will.

"I don't know… practise I guess." He closes the book and hands it to me.

"That's amazing, mate. You've never taken a class?"

"Well I took a few classes during summers at a Muggle community centre…" He nods.

"That's cool, man. I can barely draw a wand." He pauses. "Fucking straight lines…" At this I actually do laugh. I see him thinking for a moment and his smile falters for a moment. "Can't do much of anything really…" I punch him on the shoulder.

"Stop it, Shay!" He looks around in surprise.

"What was that for?" He rubs his shoulder which I know doesn't actually hurt.

"'I can't do much of anything, really'" I quote him. "I should smack you!" He glares playfully at me and then shoves me hard. I topple off the bed and wind up tangled in heap in his curtains. I hear everyone burst into laughter, but I can't see anything aside from the curtain covering my face. I untangle myself with some difficulty and stand up in an attempt to seem dignified.

"I meant to do that." I say quickly, feeling more stupid after I've said it.

"Right, Dean." Ron laughs. I flip him off. "Oy, watch it, mate. I'll kick your bloody arse!" I'd be nervous to hear this, but he's still laughing. I pick up a pillow and throw it at him. I miss and hit Neville who throws one at Ron who throws one at Harry. Seamus, not wanting to be outdone tackles me with a pillow and then proceeds to attack Neville (whom, may I add, is a badass when it comes to pillow wars). It is of course not a pillow war without battle cries and we've only been violently attacking each other for about 10 minutes when an irate Hermione appears in the doorway, wand in hand. We freeze.

"Would you morons mind quieting it down? I'm trying to revise!"

"Sorry, Hermione." Ron answers her through a mouthful of feathers.

"And look at the mess you've made!" She waves her wand in a silent motion and the room puts itself together, pillows and all. There is a collective groan from all of us.

"Honestly." She says in exasperation and walks away.

"KILLJOY!" Seamus shouts at her receding form. A moment later he's hit in the ass by a nice stinging jinx from Ron. Shay spins around.

"Oh, fuck you, man!" He yells. He tries to grab his wand but I grab it and hide it behind my back.

"Give me my wand, Thomas!" He only uses my last name when he's trying to intimidate me. This is something I've learned to take as a bluff.

"Nope." I look at Ron. "Ron, fix his ass." He doesn't seem to appreciate being ordered to do something.

"Well what if I don't want to," he sputters angrily. Harry rolls his eyes.

"You're all wankers, all of you." He says lazily. He points his own wand at Shay's arse and performs the counter to Ron's jinx. "All better. Ron, stop being such a hothead." He shoots Seamus a look that clearly means that goes for him as well.

"He was insulting my girlfriend!" Ron says indignantly. Harry sighs and doesn't answer. I feel myself smirking myself.

"Alright, Ron." I say amusedly. "Whatever you say." I hand Seamus his wand back as soon as I'm certain that he won't use it to try to kill Ron. I collapse on to my own bed and pull a book from beneath my pillow. The dorm falls into silence. As I read I can hear Seamus mumble to himself angrily, I'm sure still fuming at Ron. I roll my eyes and smile affectionately. Ron should have known better to fuck with him.

Time break Time break Time break

A couple days later I'm in the Great Hall eating breakfast with Neville and Seamus (who fortunately has returned to normal with his behaviour toward me). It's a Hogsmeade day, and naturally, everyone is discussing their plans for the trip.

"We're going into Zonko's first." Seamus is saying to me. I just laugh and agree and try not to make it obvious how wonderful I find it that he's saying "we." Unfortunately, Neville seems to notice anyway and winks at me from across the table. I nearly choke on my pumpkin juice. Seamus looks at me.

"What did I miss?" He looks around in confusion and eventually meets eyes with Neville.

"Neville?" Neville bursts into laughter and hides in his cereal bowl. Seamus appears to get angry.

"What the hell, guys! What's going on? Tell me right now!" I glare at Neville.

"Nothing, Shay. He kicked my leg and he's being an arse about it." He looks disbelieving for a moment but decides to buy into it. He glares at Neville too.

"Don't kick Dean, Longbottom." He says flatly. I stare at him for a second, trying to discern if he's actually serious. I think he might be. Neville raises his eyebrows at Seamus and then looks meaningfully at me. I blush and look into my goblet. "You too are acting so fucking weird!" Seamus exclaims.

"No we're not." I say shorting. I attempt to nonchalantly return to my breakfast. Seamus inspects me suspiciously. "We'll talk about this later." He tells me, somehow picking up that this has more to do with me than Neville.

"No we won't." I say shortly. "There's nothing to talk about." Again, he gets grumpy, but he seems to decide having fun today is more important because he lets it go. Either way, I know he'll be "talking to me" about it later.

Time Break Time Break Time Break

"What about these?" Seamus is asking me. He's holding up a box of Fireworks. I shrug my shoulders.

"Fred and George's are better. We should have stocked up in Diagon." It's true. The Weasley's products could rival Zonko's. Seamus appears to contemplate this.

"Yeah, I suppose. I gotta light somethin' though." I roll my eyes and push him down the aisle toward the other pranks.

"You don't need a firework to do that Shay, trust me. And remind me again not to lend you my stuff." He pretends to be offended, and stomps off with his arms crossed. I pause for a moment and look after him, smiling to myself. He notices.

"Well, come on!" I laugh and follow him over to a shelf of games.

Eventually we leave the store with a couple of dungbombs and a few noise makers each. We trot off down the street and stop as we pass The Three Broomsticks.

"Wanna drink?" Seamus asks me. I consider it.

"I don't know… I've not got much left. I wanted to get some stuff from Honeydukes and I need some new drawing quills…" He grabs my hand and for a moment I forget to breathe.

"My treat." He drags me into the restaurant. "Two please." He says as we are greeted by a seater at the door. The women leads us to a small table in the back of the room and we sit across from each other. She walks off and we chat while we wait for a waitress.

"You really don't need to get me anything." I tell him hesitantly, feeling guilty about the fact that him doing so makes me feel like flying.

"Well maybe I want to," he responds. I feel myself flush.

"W-why?" I stammer out.

"'Coz you're my best mate." He says simply. My heart sinks a little but I don't let it show.

"Oh… okay." I recover my composure. "Does that mean I've gotta buy you shat too?" I'm sure to sound like I'm joking. He shrugs.

"Nah! You make it up in other ways." I want to ask him what ways those might be but at that moment the waitress comes over to our table.

"What can I get you boys?" She asks us. Seamus addresses her.

"Butterbeer. Two." He holds up two fingers. The women nods and scratches something down.

"And will the bill be separate?" Seamus shakes his head.

"No, we're together." He says. A peculiar looks becomes the waitresses face and for a moment I don't understand why.

"Oh… alright then." She smiles and walks away. Shay looks confusedly toward me.

"What's her problem?" I feel myself flush again.

"You told her we were together." He still doesn't seem to understand.

"So? I've got this." I resist the urge to bury my face in my arms.

"She thought we were like… you know… a couple." Realisation dons his face for a moment and then he shrugs.

"Oh." He says. "Oh well. No big deal, right?" I don't say anything. "She shouldn't look so bloody surprised though. Two blokes together. Horror!" He actually appears rather bothered.

"But…" I remind him, "We're not actually together." He looks at me as though I've just pulled him from a deep thought.

"So? For all she knows, we could be. Shouldn't bloody judge." I shrug.

"I'm used to it." I'm inwardly very honoured that he's sticking up for me when he damn well doesn't have to.

"Well you shouldn't be." He crosses his arms and stares at the wall behind me with a stony expression. Touched as I may be, I don't like to see Shay so worked up. Especially just because of me. I reach across the table and put my hand on one of his pale, freckled arms.

"Shay…" I say slowly, unsure of what to say.

"Here you are boys!" The waitress has returned with two large mugs and seems to be acting perkier than necessary. Unpleased with the timing, I take my mug and thank her glumly. She skips off and Seamus glares in her direction. He takes his drink and swigs it deeply, putting it down rougher than he would have.

"Shay," I try again, feeling as though my argument has lost potency because I'm no longer touching him, "don't worry about it, okay? She was surprised is all. I don't think she really had a problem." He looks up at me and for a moment my breath catches.

"She shouldn't be surprised." He says slowly. "It's not the effing sixties anymore." His behaviour is confusing me a little.

"Well, no," I answer, "it isn't. But at the same time, I don't let it bother me because it just comes with being gay I guess…" This doesn't seem to calm him.

"You're my best mate. I'm sick of people like that." He says shortly. We sit in silence after this with the occasional talk of the weather. When it comes time to leave, he doesn't tip the waitress.

We leave the warm comfort of The Three Broomsticks and, bracing ourselves from the wind, head down the street. Seamus still seems stony and my mind is reeling trying to think of ways to cheer him. At the same time, however, by brain is also trying to understand his behaviour. My thoughts are interrupted as a cloaked figure slams into Seamus shoulder as he walks by. A cold voice yells back:

"Watch where you're going there, Finnegan!" The remark is tailed by laughter and feel my blood boil. Evidently, Seamus does too.

"What's that Zabini?" he shouts after the figure. "Come back here you sodding prick! I'll turn your arse inside out." Blaise does nothing but flip Seamus off and continues walking. I can feel him growling beside me. I cautiously grab his arm.

"Shay… Seamus, relax." I tell him slowly, knowing his temper. I massage his arm gently with my hand. "Come on. Let's go into Honeydukes. Just forget about the fucking Slytherins. They aren't worth the anger." Instead of shrugging me off like I half expect, Seamus tears his gaze from Blaise and looks at me. I can see the anger in his eyes but at the same time I can see it growing smaller. "Relax." I say slowly, looking him straight in the eye.

"Why does the sodding twat have to act like that?" He snaps.

"Because he's stupid, Shay." I say calmly. "What makes him worth getting in trouble for?" I tread lightly, understanding that Seamus has quite a few insecurities that no one really knows about. I know this is about more than anger for him. He may not show it, but he's upset.

"Because he's bleeding messing with me that's why!" I grab his other arm with my other hand and stare him dead on.

"He's a jerk and a screw off and you are better than he is, Seamus. Now knock it off," I say firmly. "Please." He stares me down for a moment but seems to calm down.

"A-alright." He answers hesitantly. "Sorry."

"It's alright, mate." I slap him on the shoulder. "What do you say we get some of those liquorish wands, eh? I know they're your favourites." This seems to cheer him up a bit.

"Yeah they are." He says with a bit of a smile. I drag him into the store.

I wind up spending more at Honeydukes than planned, although that isn't to be unexpected. I buy Seamus a few things and by the time we leave, we're even on the Butterbeers and he's forgotten about Zabini completely. It's chillier when we leave than when we entered and we decide it's about time to head back.

"They need to have the trips more often," the now cheerful Seamus is saying to me as we trudge our way back toward the castle. I nod and I'm about to respond when something catches my notice up the street. Hermione and Dobby seem to have gathered one or two followers for that SPEW of hers. They're standing along street handing out buttons. It seems that she's talked Ron into holding a protest sign:

ELVES ARE PEOPLE TOO

The poor bloke looks humiliated.

"Oh dear…" I mutter. Zabini shows up at the wrong moment flanked by Theodore Nott. Instinctively, I reach back and restrain Seamus from charging forward. "Let her handle it," I whisper, "Hermione knows how to handle herself." I wasn't wrong. The confrontation goes from Blaise laughing, to Blaise cowering in an instant and she pulls out her wand.

"Get the hell out of here, Zabini," She warns. "Or do you not recall what I did to Malfoy our third year? I assure you, I'm far more learned now than I was then and you do _not _want to cross me right now!" I shudder against the wind and lean into Seamus, who falters, but doesn't push me away. He smells intoxicating and for a moment I just breathe him in, fighting the urge to fall asleep. For a moment it almost feels like he's returning the urge to get closer…

"Oy! Fags! Move it!" A large person shoves between us down the road. He doesn't get too far though. The next thing I hear is an unintelligible shout and a burst of purple light zooms straight between Seamus and I, hitting Zabini on the ass. His usually skinny body begins to swell. Yellow spots pop up on his skin. His face suggests that he's in a lot of pain. My first reaction is that Seamus did this, but I look over to find his face just as stunned as mine. I turn back behind me to see Ron with his wand out looking furious. He storms over to Blaise.

"Don't you ever fucking use that word again, Zabini." For an added measure he twitches his wand and small beam of white light hits the boy on the arse, causing him to squeak in discomfort. I snigger, and then look cautiously over at Seamus. He seems torn between fury and amusement. Hermione runs up in a panic.

"Oh my god, Ron!" He shrugs as she pulls out her wand.

"Just leave him there." He suggests. "He deserved it anyhow." I laugh nervously and pull Seamus away from the scene.

"Come, mate. We'd better get back. I'm freezing my arse off over here." This appears to pull him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah… Yeah," he says slowly, "me too." We're silent on the way back to the castle and it isn't until we reach our dorm that either of us speaks again.

"Want a wand?" I ask, pulling a candy from my Honeydukes bag. Seamus shakes his head no, and still doesn't talk. "Are you okay?" He still refuses to answer me, which has me worried. I plop beside him, sitting on the edge of his bed. I put an arm around him. "What's wrong, Shay."

"Nothing." His response is monotonous.

"I don't buy that for a second, Seamus." I tell him bluntly. "What's wrong." He shrugs and pulls away from my arm. I watch him as he lies back on his bed and stares intently at the ceiling, clearly in a thought.

"I hate that word." He says after a moment, startling me.

"What word?"

"The 'F' word… you know." I catch his meaning but continue to stare.

"Why? It doesn't apply to you." With this, he flips over to his side, effectively turning his back to me. "Shay?" Again, silence. "Is there something you want to tell me?" After what feels like another decade of silence he rolls back onto his back.

"I had a lot of fun today." He says thoughtfully. In another situation, I would probably take this as an attempt at a subject change, but right now I'm getting the feeling there's something else behind this.

"Yeah…" I say slowly. "So did I." He looks up at me.

"Thank you." He says oddly.

"For what?" He sighs.

"For stopping me when Zabini shoved me today. I was just… I hate…"

"I know, Shay." I spare him from needing to finish. He sighs again.

"I heard something the other day." He says softly, seeming to refuse to look at me.

"What did you hear…?" I ask. I'm suddenly nervous.

"Harry was talking to Neville about you." My heart sinks.

"W-what were they saying?" I fight a childish urge to cry. Why would my friends be talking about me?

"Nothing bad!" Seamus reassures me quickly, sensing my distress. "Just… things."

"What things?" I repeat. "Please tell me." He sits up and resumes his position on the edge of the bed. He leans forward onto his knees, staring at the floor.

"That you only never told me you were gay… because you… well… liked me." I feel sick.

"I…" I stammer, unable to be sure what to say. He looks up at me, his starting eyes boring into my own.

"Is it true?"

"I-I" I stutter again, "I'm sorry…" I can't look at him.

"Don't be, Dean… I…" I look at him.

"You what?" I ask louder than necessary. "You're going to tell me it's okay now, right? That you're my best mate and we've known each other for seven years and you're not gonna let my stupid little crush get in the way? And even though you say that you'll stop wanting to be so near me, and you won't change in front of me, and pretty soon…" I can't finish because I'm startled out of speaking by a pair of lips pressing against my own. The sheer wind is knocked straight out of me as Seamus' soft, sweet mouth moves gently on top of my own. The kiss probably only lasted about three seconds. To me it could have been ages.

When he pulls away, I don't open my eyes, in fear that this could be a dream.

"Open your eyes, Dean." I hear him tell me quietly. I shake my head and squeeze them tighter. "Open your eyes and look at me. Please." Slowly, I do so. His face is mere inches away from mine. "How long?" He asks.

"I… I don't know," I tell him truthfully. He reaches for my hands and grasps them.

"Since I heard them talking the other day… I haven't been able to think of much else. I never really considered myself gay but… after today…" To my absolute horror, I feel my lower lip tremble slightly and I have to ask myself just why the bloody hell I'm about to cry right now. "Shh… don't… don't cry, Dean. I just…"

"Just what…?" I whisper.

"I think I've been falling for you too…." He whispers back. "But it's all so weird for me…" My heart sinks a little.

"Yeah… I know it's weird. I don't expect…" For the second time he cuts me off; only this time with words.

"I want you to be with me." He says quickly. I stop mid word, mouth moving stupidly without sound.

"W-what?" I ask when I finally find my voice again.

"I want you to be with me," he tells me again. "I don't care what they think or say. I'm falling in love with you." I reach up and rub at my eyes. This can't be real.

"Seamus… you don't even sound like yourself… are you sure…?" There's a piece of my brain at the very back insisting that this is some sort of very twisted joke.

"I'm sure." He says shortly. "If it winds up being weird, I'll tell you, but…"

This time it's my turn to cut him off. I press my dark lips to his pink, glorifying in his response to my touch. I allow my hand to move up to his sandy hair; brush my fingers through the soft locks. He pulls me close – closer than we've ever been. I cup his cheek with my other hand, running over his smooth, perfect skin. When we pull away I can hardly breathe.

"Yes." I say. "Just, yes."

Seamus smiles.

"I won't let you down."

**Not my usual angst, I know, but I had a request from someone very close to me to do a more light-hearted story, and so here I am. Please REVIEW. It's my first Deamus so let me know how I did. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW. … PLEASE?**


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